The gold leaf. [volume] (Henderson, N.C.) 1881-1911, 1887-09-08

A correspondent Of the Beaufort
Record gives the following interesting
account of recent visit to the historic
Fort Macon, near Morehead City. He
says: Having arrived at the landing,
we marched down the inclined bridge
to the Fort. We looked with mingled
awe and reverence upon that famous
stronghold, which, in the dark days of
the Cos, m ght have been called the
"Gibraltar" of the Southern Con-
federacy. We gazed with bated breath
upon the threatening but now empty
port holes, passed through the dark
pa s,ge into the oblong court covered
with long, luxuriant grass, and peeped
through the bars into the stern and
dark prison beyond. We looked into
the deserted quarters which had con-
tanned a gallant garrison, and viewed
with astonishment, solid shot snugly
encased in the massive wall above our
heads, a mute but eloquent reminder
of those bloody days Of yore. We then
ascended an iron stair and stood upon
the top when fine view burst to sight.
At our very feet, the dark cannon, the
grim guardians Of Liberty, frowned
threatening upon the invader; on Our
left, looking across the glittering main,
was seen the huge Hotel, which was wont
to accommodate the wealth, beauty
and grace of the Old North State, now
lowered like some giant of old, far
above the smaller and insignificant
structures of Morehead directly in
front, came to view the fourishing
town of Beaufort, whose natural re-
sources aptly entitle it to be called the
Resort OF the Atlantic coast close at
hand, on the right, came to view
Shackelford' S bank and the simmer
ing wastes Of white sand; away in the
distance further to the right, doomed
up in bold relief the Cape and the tall
light house and to crown all, was seen
on every side the boundless waters that
glimmered and shone under the glare
of the evening sun.
The party having contented them
selves with cursory glance at the
hospital, betook themselves to the
beach, where they viewed from afar,
the white capped breakers as they came
on with resistless power and broke with
a deafening roar at tleir feet. We
wandered around, some writing our
names upon the frail pillow of fame,
the pure white sand, to presently see
every trace effaced by the incoming
tide, which so forcibly reminded US OF
the winding up of this mortal coil,
when all earthly glory fades away ;
and again, others "ga.hered up the
shells by the sea Shore" while others
amused themselves with pelting the in
nocent little sand crabs as they scam
pcred about on the beach. We next
inspected the concrete walk and the
thoguht arose in our mind, how de-
lightful promenade it would be on a
moon light night, with fair compan-
ion, and to listen to the ripping OF
the waves and admire the food of light
emanating from the silvery tide.
Having decorated our hats with the
tall cane which grew in abundance, we
walked down the beach and were soon
aboard our gallant craft just as the
great orb Of day was going to his rest
behind the Western hills. In few
moments we weighed anchor, and after
a short and uneventful trip, were on
terra frma once more just as the bells
began to chime for evening service.
The days will fly by, and the months
slip away, and the years go surely on
in the flight of Time, but We will never
forget our visit to that old memorial
OF sterner times.